The Fairytale Ended
by WalkingWit
Summary: Amelia Pond, the girl from the fairytale, was just a body. He thinks he should have been the first to go. He was the man who kept dying. He sits in the rain next to her grave with a worn poncho. Now he waits to greet death like an old friend, to join her.


**I don't know why I keep writing sad Amy/Rory stuff. I just keep expecting something terrible to happen to them. That'd just make me turn into a hysteric mess. I love the Ponds too much, and I really would not like to see them go. In an interview Karen Gillan said that she wouldn't want Amy to come back to the show after her time was up. This is one way they could do that without killing them off young.**

**The Fairytale Ended**

It was raining, and he was numb. He didn't notice the familiar whir in the air. He didn't notice the man in the bowtie who looked like his hearts had just been broken yet again.

Rory Williams didn't notice anything, as he was staring intently at the grave in front of him.

_Amelia Pond-Williams_

_Wife. Mother. Friend._

_1989-2063_

It was just there. A grave, coffin buried beneath the ground. Inside of the coffin was her body, old and withered. Just a body, never to move or laugh or smile or throw a shoe at him again.

He couldn't remember them ever getting that old. In his head, they were still the young couple, travelling on the TARDIS, trying to find their daughter, having adventures. Then the Doctor had left them with a house and a car and they just _lived_. They worked, paid bills, had a Chloe (ginger, like Amy), and loved each other. That was all he needed, all they needed.

When she died, his Amy, it looked like she was asleep. She had been complaining of feeling lightheaded. She had kissed him soundly.

"I love you, Rory," she had said before padding into their room.

Rory had sensed something was wrong and followed her, never leaving her side. He lay down next to her, holding her hand.

He knew she was gone when he couldn't hear her breathing. He nearly choked (every time he breathed in was every time she breathed out, and now his breath had stopped).

Tears rolled down his wrinkled, weathered face, and he held her. Just like all those years ago before putting her in the Pandorica, when he thought he had killed her.

He didn't notice Alfie standing behind Craig, who was in a wheelchair. The last time they had seen them was at Jeff's funeral. They always seemed to meet up at funerals, lately.

He didn't notice his daughters standing behind him. River had escaped from the Storm Cage (again), holding Chloe's hand. Behind the younger daughter stood her husband and children.

"Dad," River whispered, putting his hand on his shoulder. She heard the whirring. She knew who was there. He was the one who had brought her, who told her about what happened on this day in November.

He didn't reply. He hadn't said much lately. No one blamed him.

Today his tears mingled with the rain. He didn't notice anything except that she was _gone_.

The Doctor didn't dare come up to see him. In his mind he always saw them as the young couple, the Ponds, full of life and energy. He didn't want to see the compassionate, kind man he knew look so broken and defeated. He couldn't bear to think of Amelia Pond, the girl from the fairytale, dead.

This is why he tended to flit from companion to companion. He didn't want to see them. Because humans wither and they die. And Rory was all too human. It pained him to think of Amy dead, but add Rory to the list and he may just crawl into a little ball and stay that way. Rory was the heart and the soul of their little TARDIS team. Without him, it'd all be dead.

"Dad, let's go inside," River tried to coax him away from the grave as the rainstorm grew stronger.

"No," he said quietly, firmly, in his very Rory way.

River was going to protest, but she knew her father all too well. He was going to wait by the grave with his wife until he would join her once more.

Rory sat down in front of the grave, old bones creaking. The wet grass and dirt wet seeped into his skin. He didn't care.

"Amy," he whispered.

The Doctor had popped back into the TARDIS, rummaging through his wardrobe. He pulled out an old blanket that had been fashioned into a poncho and an umbrella, and ran outside again. He tapped Rory on the shoulder, handing it to him.

Rory turned around, looking at the Doctor with old, questioning eyes.

"Hello, Rory," the Doctor said sadly.

"Doctor," he looked at the man who hadn't aged in fifty years.

"I'm so sorry," he didn't know what to say.

"We lived our lives, it was time, I guess," Rory replied, voice gravelly.

"Rory the Roman, the boy who waited," the Doctor offered a small smile, "and Amelia Pond, girl who waited."

After a brief conversation, Rory made the Doctor leave him be (after thanking him for the adventures).

"At least go on inside," he tried to coax the old man quietly.

"I'm staying with her, Doctor. Forever. I told her I'd always wait for her, and I will."

In the rain, Rory Williams waited. He pulled the poncho around him, remembering, speaking quietly to Amy.

He remembered how her hair looked when she first woke up, stumbling out of bed to get to work. He remembered the way she smiled at him. He remembered the look on her face when he taught Chloe how to ride a bike—pure pride and _joy_.

He remembered their wedding, the silly dancing. He remembered that that was when he became Mr Pond. And she was Mrs Rory.

He remembered her when they were children, then their first kiss to the Macrarena, of all songs.

He remembered everything, and it hurt.

He told her how it should've been him to go first. After all, he was the man who kept on dying. He was the one who had 2000 plus years of memories. It should've been him.

This was the one time he was ready to accept death like an old friend, and go with him.

* * *

><p><p>

The Doctor stared down at the grave next to the older one. They were side by side, as it should've been.

_Rory Williams_

_Husband. Father. Friend._

_1989-2063_

Technically, he had died of pneumonia. The Doctor thinks he died of a broken heart.

The Ponds were gone, and there was nothing he could do to save them this time.

That was the fate of a human. Growing old and withering away until all that was left was a body left to decompose. At least Rory and Amy got to grow old together. He hadn't been so selfish to try and keep them to himself. At least he had given them that.

He knew he could always pop back in time and visit them when they were young, but it just seemed so wrong. It was like how he'd never see the Brigadier again, or Sarah Jane. Now he could never see Amy and Rory ever again either. Their fairytale had ended.

* * *

><p><strong>Hopefully it's good. Please leave feedback, I'd greatly appreciate it.<strong>


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